


Day 1: Mall Santa

by thejammys



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gaara is a mall santa, M/M, Metal is a babbu, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5428799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejammys/pseuds/thejammys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the 12 days of Christmas - GaaLee addition. From the tumblr prompt: "You’re the mall Santa that made my kid cry, but I can’t be mad at you because I’m being distracted by your face AU"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 1: Mall Santa

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Once again, this was supposed to be a drabble and I couldn't stfu.

Ah, Christmas. It's the season of giving, the season of love. Malls are especially beautiful places to visit during the holidays with their high, domed ceilings glittering with fairy lights and boasting tall, rotund trees bedecked with shining ornaments reflecting the wowed, toothy grins of the children staring into them.

The ruler of this cheery, festive domain is none other than old Kris Kringle himself. Down on the first floor, surrounded by giddy elves and plastic reindeer, the merry Santa Claus sits on his chair and ushers young ones up onto his lap to tell him their Christmas wishes. Then he sends them on their way with a wink and a smile and perhaps even a tap on the nose, promising them that Christmas morning will bring them joy, before he beckons the next little tyke up with a jolly “ho ho ho!”

At least, that’s what he was supposed to do. But one of the kids had slid off his knee and squished his balls earlier, so Gaara was pretty  _done_  with the whole thing.

“Next,” he grunted as one of the snotty gremlins slid off his lap and ran back over to their mother.

His brother, who was even less enthusiastic than him, turned his head to mutter, “Shouldn’t Santa at least  _pretend_  this is fun,” into his ear. As he stepped away again, the bells on his little elf shoes jingled and brought the smallest of smiles to Santa’s face.

“Yes... ho ho ho - next.”

It was fun, for the first hour. His sister was in charge of Santa’s Workshop in the mall, and today, on the last Saturday before Christmas, five of her employees called out sick. That was how he and his brother found themselves dressed up in someone else’s sweaty costumes. Gaara was actually happy to do it at first, before a baby threw up on him, before he was forced to skip lunch, and before that one kid had threatened his future ability to reproduce.

Now he just wanted to go home and shower.

The next kid had scrambled up the steps to his chair, but instead of hurling themselves onto him, stood by his knee with a bright expectant smile on their tiny face.

Were they waiting for his permission to climb up? How polite.

“Come here, kid,” Gaara grumbled, reaching forward and plucking the child up so he could securely situate him on his knee. He always kept one hand at the kid’s back, so they couldn’t slip backwards and break their fragile necks, but his free hand usually went back to the arm of his chair. This kid, however, had a different idea and grabbed it with both of his tiny ones.

Gaara blinked at him for a moment, to see if he would let go, and got that same childish grin in return. “Alright, tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”

The kid took in a big gulp of air and then looked very determined - much more serious than how a what, four, five year old (?) ought to look when asking for games and toys.

“Santa, for Christmas this year I wish for you to please fix my grandpa’s legs,” the kid said.

He should have wished for a new hair cut because even Gaara knew bowl cuts weren’t - wait, what?

Santa’s confusion read in the furrow of the fake white eyebrows he was wearing.

“Uh - what?”

The child continued to look at him fiercely. “My grandpa is in a wheelchair, so could you please fix his legs so he can play with me again?”

Gaara blinked at this kid and heard his brother launch into a coughing fit beside him.

His job was to tell the kids ‘sure thing, sonny’ no matter what they asked for, or if it was something too grand - like a blimp - he was instructed to guide them toward something more appropriately sized. But this?

“Your grandpa can’t play with you in a wheelchair?” Gaara tried, stalling until he could come up with another toy sold in the mall that would pass as a suitable replacement for ‘ _Grandpa’s mobility’._

The kid finally broke their intense eye contact and looked down at their joined hands, appearing guilty. “No, he still plays with me... but he was gonna teach me how to swim this year.”

Oh god.

The kid started squeezing his hand, probably nervously, and then looked back up at him.

“So, will you help him, Santa?” he asked with all the innocence expected of something that small.

Gaara looked into the kids dark eyes and took a deep breath.

He was Santa, he was supposed to make kid’s wishes come true...

But he couldn’t lie!

“No, kid, I don’t think I can...”

There was just a long moment of silence where they stared at each other, and Gaara thought perhaps this child was mature beyond his years, before that tiny face screwed up and the sound of crying erupted over Santa’s Workshop.

Gaara panicked. What the hell was he supposed to have said - if he said ‘yeah sure’ then the kid would be in for a horrible Christmas morning when Grandpa wheeled out and - oh no -  _a parent_.

Parents were the worst part of any job with kids. Kids might cry and be constantly sticky and they might accidentally crush your goods - but parents make threats. Parents make demands and think their kid is the most special and that only their time is ever compromised when things go wrong.

So it filled Gaara with dread to hear, “Metal, what’s wrong!?” as a parent ran over to the kid on his lap.

He was probably going to get Temari in trouble for this. Crap.

But this dad hadn’t rounded on him yet, he was singularly focused on his son. He’d taken his hands and was wiping away tears from small, round cheeks while he waited for an answer.

“I thought - hic - Santa - hic - was magic!” the kid sobbed, looking into his dad’s eyes imploringly like something his parent said would change Santa’s ‘no’.

This time the dad did turn to look at Santa - and wowee.

That was Gaara’s Christmas present right there.

This dad was  _hot_. Apparently bowl cuts did work on some people.

"What did you ask for?” the dad asked his son, although his furious glare was fixed on Gaara.

He suddenly wished he weren’t wearing this costume and this beard. He could make a much better impression if he was wearing the sweater he’d come in with and if his face wasn’t hidden by an enormous beard and moustache.

The kid launched himself into his dad’s arms and sobbed harder. “I asked him to fix grandpa’s legs!”

Gaara was privately glad that the kid’s face being pressed against his dad’s chest had muffled that somewhat, because he would have had to go put on the Grinch suit if the other parents heard that he told some kid his grandpa was outta luck.

It did soften the dad’s expression though. In fact, he turned to his equally dark eyes to Gaara and looked horrified.

“I’m so sorry -” he started.

But Gaara held up a hand to stop him. He was Santa, after all, it was his job to make this right.

And he didn’t want the hot dad to leave.

Gaara leaned forward, since the dad had knelt down to comfort and catch his kid, and tapped the boy on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, young man,” he said, using the voice he’d abandoned after the ball-crushing kid had squished him.

He waited until the kid - Metal, apparently - wiped his eyes and turned to look at him.

“I’m afraid I said ‘no’ because I’ve already spoken to your grandpa and it turns out he wanted something else this year,” Gaara explained, mentally patting himself on the back for coming up with this so quickly.

The hot dad beamed at him. And good thing too, since Gaara’s body was covered, the only sexy asset he had going for him right now was his voice.

Metal blinked watery eyes at him and looked him up and down, like he was checking his costume to spot a lie. “Really?” he asked after a moment of scrutiny.

Santa nodded gravely. “Now, would you like to tell Santa what present  _you_  want for Christmas?”

That knocked the gloom off his face and the kid wiped the last of his tears away and went right back to grinning the way he had before Santa crapped on his Christmas wish.

Gaara didn’t have time to reach his arms out before the kid hurled himself back onto his knee.

After sitting him just right and making sure he wouldn’t topple over, Gaara let the kid grab his hand again.

“Now, what would you like for Christmas?”

“A slip ‘n’ slide!” Metal yelled back without skipping a beat.

Gaara turned to look at the hot dad. “Alright, daddy, did you hear that? The slip ‘n’ slide is on Santa.”

The dad grinned at him and Gaara was  _delighted_  to see that calling him ‘daddy’ made him look a bit flustered. “Thank you, Santa!”

“Is there anything else?” he asked, giving his attention back to the kid.

Metal frowned, looking very serious again, and then lit up once his lightbulb went off. “I want to go to DisneyWorld with my daddy and my grandpa!”

“What about Santa?” he asked.

He heard his brother laugh behind him.

Metal nodded vigorously before frowning again. “But Santa, won’t you melt at DisneyWorld?”

“Santa is not Frosty. I’m a lot more put together than that guy.”

“Okay,” his sister interrupted, appearing behind him. “The line is getting long and we’re only open for another hour so  _move it along, Santa_ ,” she hissed.

The hot dad seemed to hear that. “Metal, let’s say thank you to Santa and get going so he can see the other children,” he said, holding out his hand for his son to take.

Metal nodded to his dad and then wrapped his arms around Gaara’s neck. “Thank you, Santa,” he whispered into Gaara’s wig-covered ear.

Oh, well...gosh. That downright tugged at Santa’s heartstrings.

The kid climbed off his lap and took his dad’s hand.

But no - the hot dad!

“Before you go,” Gaara said quickly, waiting until the dad looked him in the eye again. “Is there anything  _you_  want for Christmas?”

The hot dad blinked at him and appeared flushed again. “Is there time to sit on your lap and tell you?” he asked, although he turned pinker and looked sort of mortified that he’d let himself say such a thing.

Gaara grinned under the beard.

“I get off -” he cast a quick glance down at Metal and corrected himself. “Santa is finished here in one hour, and then you can sit on anything you like.”

He could have fried an egg on hot dad’s face.

“Where should we meet you, Santa?” he asked.

“California Pizza Kitchen,” Gaara answered immediately.

He was starving.

The hot dad smiled at him. “Okay, then it’s a date. I’m Lee, by the way,” he said, reaching his hand out to shake.

Gaara took it and shook once. “Santa,” he replied.

Lee grinned at him and bent down to scoop up his kid after he’d retrieved his hand.

“Metal, say goodbye to Santa!”

“Bye, Santa!”

Gaara waved back. “Goodbye, young man! See you in an hour - I mean, on Christmas Eve!”

Lee winked at him before walking away, and Gaara stared at their backs until another kid jumped on him.

When he looked down at this child, it was with the proper Santa smile.

“So, what would you like for Christmas?”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading! Happy holidays! ^^


End file.
